Review: a big new talent in 'Tiny Furniture'

In some regards “Tiny Furniture” is a marvel: a full-bodied, gorgeously crafted story of post-collegiate listlessness written and directed by and starring an early-twentysomething woman with real gifts of eye and ear and a fearless heart. It’s not to every taste, and, indeed, it can be uneven and cloying and twee. But there’s undeniable talent and even audacity in it, and you can haunt the multiplex for ages without seeing anything like it.

The film centers on Aura (Dunham), a college grad back at home in her mom’s New York apartment without prospects of work or romance. She quarrels with mom (Dunham’s real mom, artist Laurie Simmons) and her more-brilliant sister (Grace Dunham, the filmmaker’s, yes, sister), falls in with a louche childhood friend (the hilarious and delightful Jemima Kirke), and essays relationships with a maker of YouTube videos (Alex Karpovsky) and a druggy chef (David Call).

There’s an undeniable air of self-regard to the enterprise, which isn’t necessarily a flaw. And Dunham has an absolutely stellar visual sense and a sense of humor about herself, neither of which is a given in any filmmaker’s skill set. If “Tiny Furniture” asks us to invest overly in what have to be considered First World Problems (i.e., insufficient employment and broken amours among Manhattan’s most privileged), it is nevertheless genuine and fresh. Life will surely introduce Dunham to some more generally emblematic dilemmas, or she will turn to a story outside her domestic comfort zone, and the result might very well be extraordinary.